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Updated: June 8, 2025
Brenton and his idle, delicate wife pretended wasn't fit to eat. She was sure that she put two heapin' spoonfuls of sugar into the gooseberry pie, and half as much into the apple pie, and Miss Brenton might make her fruit pies, as she called 'em, herself the next time, for 'twas a privilege she didn't covet by no means." But Mrs.
I have news that I will exchange, but meanwhile I want some news from you." "I have none to give you," answered Brenton. "If you have not, will you undertake to answer any questions I shall ask you, and not take offence if the questions seem to be personal ones?" "Certainly," said Brenton; "I shall be glad to answer anything as long as it has a bearing on the case."
When I get on my legs again, if ever I do, I'll call him out and lick him. By the way, the last of my cigars are in that drawer. Don't let them spoil. Well, as I was saying, what humbugs you parsons are!" Brenton, digging in the chaos of the drawer before him, lifted up his head. "Aren't we, though!" he said, with sudden energy. "Hullo!" Reed stared at him in astonishment. "You've found it out?"
She impressed it on the mind of Catie, also, that it was her girlish duty to herd her immature companion into the proper fold; that her young and sprightly charms, her girlish loyalty should be to her as a shepherd's crook, the guiding wand to be applied in moments of extremest peril. After her lights, Mrs. Brenton was canny.
As it chanced, it was that afternoon that Brenton came to see him, for the first time since Reed's return. Whatever Brenton's thought about the matter, it must be confessed that Opdyke, albeit healthy-minded and as philosophical as a surgical case can ever be, had felt a good deal of dread of their meeting. In the old days, he had been the strong one and the masterful, Brenton the weak.
Then his seven-horse-power conscience goes to work, and bids him scatter the gleams across a darkening world. If he didn't mean so very well, he would do infinitely better. However, he " "Is Brenton," the doctor interposed quietly. "What is more, he will be Brenton till the end of time. He even may get worse, by way of natural reaction from the strain he was under with his wife.
As I say, I'm fond of babies; they have so much potential humanity bottled up inside of them. I will not have them slaughtered, if I can help it." Then, to all seeming, he digressed sharply. "By the way, Reed, have you seen the Brenton baby? No; of course you haven't. It's five months, now, ugly as sin, and the brightest little youngster you ever set your eyes on."
It has been enough misery to me already." "Very well," said Mrs. Brenton. "I would like very much to see John. Will you bring him to me?" The girl looked at her with startled eyes. "You will not tell him?" she said. "No indeed, I shall tell him nothing. But I want to do what I can for him as I said. I suppose you are engaged to be married?"
Brenton took her prayers into bed with her, that night. Some of them, even, lasted till the dawn. This was when Scott was only four. By the time he was fourteen, he took himself more seriously. He still played "Grandpa Wheeler" in imagination; but he no longer called it play, but plans.
He still believes, if left alone, that Stephen Roland is the criminal. All our efforts to lead him to the residence of Jane Morton have been unavailing. Now, you see, he is on the eve of going back to Chicago." "Well, then, let him go," said Brenton, despondently. "With all my heart, say I," answered Speed; "but in any case let us leave him alone."
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